Letting Go
by Twins 'n Fandoms
Summary: As long as Radiator Springs, his true home, and the valley stands tall and proud, he'll always find a light in the darkness, even if Doc had passed away. And as long he finds hope, he'll never leave with sadness and grief in a hollow space, but with a heart filled with happiness and hope. (Humanized)


**I know, I know, this isn't supposed to be Throwback Thursday, but it's nearing November 28, which is also the same day a family member had passed away. I'm writing this now so that it doesn't escape me, since I have a lot of promises for that certain day.**

 **Yes, yes, Cars is an old franschise, yeah, it's old, yes, it's childish but right now** _ **I don't care. I remember**_ **the person that had died watched the movie in early December of 2006 back then with me. I missed those old times. (That and I'm also a big Cars fanatic** _ **smh I always keep up with Disney movies**_ **because it just contains my childhood.)**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

 _ **dedicated to my beloved uncle who had passed a year ago**_

 _ **and to those strong enough to know it's hard to let go**_

* * *

Everything's a blur. He doesn't remember winning, he doesn't remember getting a call from back home, he doesn't remember rushing back to Radiator Springs, he doesn't remember seeing everyone in a frenzy or calling an ambulance. He doesn't even remember how they ended up in the hospital.

But details stand out. He remembers his hands shaking as he touches a torso and sees them stained with blood. He remembers how blood-stained fingers from an almost unrecognized body find a grip on his red driving suit. He remembers the wails of the ambulance, people, a mass of them, roughly carry him away. He remembers all the vulgar words that spill from his mouth. He remembers his feet touching the ground and breaking into a run towards unbelievingly long hallways. He remembers the smell of rubbing alcohol hit his nose sharply.

He was losing it, he knew that much. He was losing a grip on things. Not even Radiator Springs, not even his friends, not even Mater, not even Sally... could help him now. He couldn't hear their pleas for him to come back.

Someone forced him to take a sip from a straw, a gentle voice rings out, trying to soothe him. But he's too distraught because _who the absolute fuck would be calm abotu this situation?_ He grudgingly takes a small sip and slowly, like a fish brought back to life, he regains consciousness and gets a fairly weak grip to Reality once more. He sees Sally Carrera, _his girlfriend turning fiancee,_ his brain reminds him of his future plans to propose, look at him concerningly, her aqua eyes glistening in the white lights-

His blond head snaps to the door as a petite nurse steps out from the doors. She timidly looks at the large group of gathered friends and family, looking like she was about to faint. Sally steps forward. "What happened to Doc, Miss?" She asks pleasantly, trying to keep the somber mood light.

There's a shimmer of hope. Doc's a fighter, he's always been dodging illnesses left and right. He could do it, he knew. He could fight it off-

The nurse shakes her head as she lowers, her voice echoing in the large but empty hallway, sending shivers up and down his spine. "I'm sorry."

The words echo loudly as if it were amplified. The hallways blurred together, he hears voices call out his name but frankly _he doesn't care right now._ He's yanked back into the comfort in the depths of his head. He doesn't remember anything. He doesn't remember standing still for a few minutes, and lashing out like a mad dog. He doesn't remember being restrained or being injected with something to calm him down.

He only thought of one person, the only person that understood him. The one that took him under his wing. The one that watched him so many times. The one that prompted him to race better and faster. The one that took up the father figure in his life when nobody did.

Doc Hudson.

 _It's not fair It's not fair It's not fair It's not fair It's not fair It's not fair It's not fair_ repeatedly echoes in his mind as he crumples, slumping in the floor in defeat. _He can't be dead He can't be dead He can't be dead He can't be dead He can't be dead He can't be dead_

He faintly feels someone firmly putting a hand on his shoulder. He relaxes for a bit. It's soothing. Like the ones Doc always gave him before a race. It was almost like he was still here... but as a ghost.

He stopped himself from laughing out loud. Doc didn't believe in ghosts.

But he feels like a ghost right now. Unbelievably weightless and hollow. Something so fragile that could fly away at any second. His hand goes to his chest and he clutches it. He feels his suit and underneath is warm flesh. He wants to push through that wall of flesh to reveal a hollow space, where his broken heart should have been, pieces scattered on the bottom as it echoes _I'm sorry_ over and over again that it's like a large cavern with water dripping the words so fast, after each other with no breaking of pattern.

The dripping suddenly turns into a waterfall and he realizes it's not coming from his chest, it's coming from his eyes. He doesn't remember releasing a howl fresh with pain and grief as he cries his soul out. His world breaks apart and _he can't breathe he can't breathe he can't breathe-_

He'll never be the same again.

* * *

Lightning McQueen never considered death, even once, as an obstacle of life. Why would he? He'll never consider death evne in a dangerous sport that he loved so much, racing around in circles in high speed that could cause death. Why? He's too young, he thinks, to experience death. Death wouldn't be so cruel to him, would it?

He sits on his bed, staring out of the open window, inhaling fresh air that brought back memories of racing along Willy's Butte. He clenches his fists and his lip curls into a sneer. Death isn't cruel. It's beyond cruel.

He slightly shakes, his whole being screaming in anger and in agony. He opens his mouth and tries to curse Life or Death for taking Doc away or for having the privilege to live while Doc's dead.

Then he cries.

 _Then what about Sally? What about Mater? What about everybody?_ That stops him. The tears still freely flow but it gradually lessens. What was he thinking? Why would he leave everyone behind?

He takes a wobbly stand. He needs to do something productive, or he'll go crazy sitting in his room and crying about Doc. _Where should you be right now?_ He furiously questions his mind. The answer hits him as he stares into the schedule that Sally had designed especially just for him, so he could function.

 _What are you doing here, Lightning? The funeral's today._

The funeral's today.

And he couldn't remember it.

* * *

There are days when Lightning just plays music to distract him from Doc's death. Before, they'll allow him to blast tunes as loud as he can, echoing in the valley and across town, where they tried to sympathize and cope with the loud music. The costumers weren't faring well, though. So they asked him to kindly lower it down. He obliged, although grudgingly.

In the silence of his dark room, he's lying on his unkept bed, staring at the ceiling. He closes his eyes and tries to paint an image of Doc on the ceiling.

He fears it, but he couldn't come to realize it.

He panics. Just like he feared. He couldn't remember Doc's face, when he gave a sarcastic quip or when that glint in eyes happened. He forgot his features. He could look at any photograph, look at any sticker or any memorabilia of Doc, but he wouldn't remember it again.

He feels something sliver the only string that he felt was the last connection he shared with Doc.

 _Drip drop_ of _I'm sorry_ echoes in his hollow chest. He hears it torment him. But he doesn't want to break down. Was this what Doc would do in this situation? Cry and isolate himself? He'd be outside, making sure other people were alright.

 _But I'm not Doc._

He itches to reach for his audio player and blast out some tunes. But he remembers what they asked of him so he digs out a pair of brand new red headphones from the depths of his drawer that Harv that send to him before. He shreds through the plastic and grabs the headphones, plugs it in the system and turns the volume up. He turns it up as high as possible and puts the headphones on. He feels the core of his being vibrating with the beat, soothing him.

He just hears a tune rocking his world, nothing more. He doesn't hear the dripping turn once more into a waterfall that pours from his eyes. He doesn't even pretend to care to notice how he looked, dirty, like a mess. He doesn't hear the door creak as Sally peeks in and sees him crying. He doesn't taste anything as she force-feeds him food.

What he does feel is Sally's hand gripping his shoulder firmly, giving him another anchor back to Reality. He looks at the door as she steps out, brown hair swinging as she closes the door.

So he continues blasting music in his ears throughout the night. He pretends to see that he was not shaking when Doc's favorite song came. He pretends that the hand on his shoulder was not the only one keeping him grounded to life.

* * *

 _It seems so wrong to race after Doc died,_ he thinks as he looks blankly at his pride and joy of his racing career. The bright red car stood there with all those stickers on, beckoning him to race. He hesitates as Mater gave him a nudge. "C'mon buddy!" He encourages him, who shakes his head. "This is wha' Doc woulda wanted ya ta do!"

Lightning McQueen stood at a garage with Mater, dressed in a simple double-shirt, worn jeans and red Converses for a 'surprize'.

The comment catches him off-guard. He steps forward and taking it as a cue, Mater pushes him in front of the door. He freezes as Mater tosses him his keys, barely catching it.

"Try it, Lightnin'!"

He looks at the car, and his hand holding the keys slightly shakes. He withdraws with a sharp intake of breath as he stands in front of his car, begging to see the light.

"Not now," he hears himself saying. "Maybe sometime later, Mater."

He walks away. Pretends not to notice Mater's sad smile at the car. Pretends he's not shaking. Pretends he doesn't miss the thrill of speed.

Pretending takes so much time, so much sacrifice and so much dedication and in that large amounts of pretention, maybe...

He forgets what he is like before.

* * *

He takes a deep breath as he turns his keys and slowly opens the door. He slides back in like what he did before, inhaling in the smell of burned rubber and oil.

It's exactly midnight. What was he doing out so late?

Mater shows up beside him, a big toothy grin plastered on his face. "What'cha thinkin', buddy? Wanna take 'er out on a joyride?"

It feels so strange yet so familiar in the same way as he sat there. Everything still worked like it did before. But something was different and not right.

He holds on to the wheel, weighing his choices. "Yeah," he suddenly blurts out before he could stop it. "I want to take her out."

Mater lets out a laugh as he puts up the door of the garage. Lightning turns on the engine, releasing a powerful purr as he drove out of the garage, his car seeing the light of day (or night) once more. But he doesn't want to get a speeding ticket or even race or wake up everyone in town so he goes as slow as his car could get, squishing down a instinct to go faster.

He heads back to the garage, where Mater promptly shoves him back in his car and forced him to go. "What about Sheriff?" Lightning tries to reason with him as Mater pushes him back in the car. "Ah'll take care o' 'im, Lightnin'," he promises as he shuts the door. "Just do an' do yer thin'."

Left with no choice, Lighning sighs as he rolls through the town, slow. He heads out to the Wheel Wall, passing through the roads cutting through the cliff, still going as slow as he could. Everything's a blur, the waterfalls blend in with the red landscape and the cutting roads seems to return to the background. He just feels the air whip across his face and it... prompts him. A whiff of fresh air beckons him to go faster.

He slowly accelerates, wanting to fill the empty void in his chest with some fresh air. For the first time, instead of letting it, he ignores it and even puts it off. He picks up speed, and he feels like he's on air. He gulps the air and pushes out the stale air, feeling rejuvenated. He slices through the canyon and he's a red blur and he _feels like he's flying, like he's racing again, like Doc's beside him-_

The thought doesn't deter him. No. It only encourages him to push it and he goes at two hundred miles an hour.

He cracks a small smile. He has a death grip on the wheel but he's completely relaxed. He's back in his element, and more than anything, it reminds him of everything that he and Doc both did together.

He doesn't lose himself in the moment. It gives him a burst of energy and he wants to go faster but he gradually slows down.

He comes to a stop in front of the Wheel Wall. He swings his door open and gets out, hearing his neck and shoulders pop as he stretches out. It's dark; he can't see a thing in front of him, not even ten feet in front. But he's not even shivering.

He feels alive, he decides as he squints, forcing his eyes to traces what could be seen in the small pricks of lights that was Radiator Springs.

It's beautiful, he also decides. And he loves it as much as every resident of the tiny town had fell in love with it.

Was this how Doc felt?

 _How could you know? He'd dead._

The thought didn't deter him, make him skulk or make him cry. No.

For once, he feels a deep connection with Doc he hadn't lost. And with it, a glimmer of hope and a piece of his old self.

* * *

He abruptly comes to a stop. He slows down and stops in front of the Wheel Wall, gets up and inhales in the air as he takes in the breathtaking view. He orders his special (the waiter's surprised) and picks his table by the side.

"I think Lightning McQueen's comeback might make a good headline," a feminine voice rings out and he sips his drink, hiding his smile in the cup as Sally pulls back the chair in front of him and sits down. "Oh no, that's a jinx!" He exclaims, "Hush," he jokes. "The media'll be here in a minute!"

Sally offers him a small laugh, her brown hair swaying in the breeze as her turquoise eyes glinted in the light. "Haha, very funny, Stickers," she smiles at him warmly as she whirls her spoon in her cup. "I don't want to the media to ruin this perfectly good day," she gestures to the valley.

He looks to his right. The view never ceases to amaze him. He remembers when first Sally took him to see it. He remembers the way her eyes softened, her hair flowed as she animatedly talks endlessly about the beauty of the valley.

 _I fell in love, he remembers her remark._ A simple yet powerful remark that changed the way he saw Radiator Springs.

And maybe also the same time time when he fell in love with the sight.

(He's not only talking about the valley, but the sight sitting in front of him right now.)

He looks back at Sally, who was still gazing into the valley. He opens his mouth, and he wants to apologize and tell her he's sorry for isolating himself, for not even caring about anyone else-

"Are you alright?"

His carefully prepared speech goes like: "What?"

She looks at him over the rim of her mug, looking concerned now. "Are you alright?"

He tries to give her a reassuring smile but to himself, he thinks he's just grimacing painfully. Was he alright?

He didn't know. When Doc had died, his world had turned upside-sidecdown. What was left was bottom, right was up, up was left and bottom was right. But maybe, his world also consisted of other people special to him. People like Sally. Maybe someone who could guide him and help him pick up the pace again.

"No," he answers truthfully, albeit hesitantly. "I... I don't know if everything would still be the same." He puts a fist on the table. "It's just that... it's not fair. It was so early and too soon."

Sally puts down her mug and covers Lightning's fist with her own hand. "It was never fair," she responds after a few moments. "Doc had been one of the... father figures in town. It was hard for everyone, especially for Sheriff. He was taken from his career before his time and he was taken away before his time."

He opens his mouth to retort; _it shouldn't be him, it didn't have to be him, he didn't have or made a choice to be taken before his time_ when she waves a hand towards the view. "Especially for this old view. Seen a lot happen around it. The interstate, the founding of Radiator Springs, everything, but even after everything... it still remained beautiful and unmoved. You know why, Stickers?"

Sassy as he is, he shakes his head, refusing to be sarcastic even for a tiny bit.

"That's not the answer," she tells him in a sing-song voice.

"Uh, because the view isn't really alive and something that can die?"

"Where was this sarcasm hiding all this time?" He shrugs as he takes a sip from his now cold cup as Sally examines him.

"Well, technically, you're right. But haven't you thought that maybe, it could have collapsed long ago because of erosion? Or maybe in the mines below, someone could've blown it to bits? Or maybe because of its beauty, it could be ruined by tourists?" Sally asks him.

"That's why we look up to it in times like this. It's always been a sign of hope that stood proudly even if forgotten by most. It's been there even before Radiator Springs had been founded," she holds on to the his hand tight. "Everything that happened to her was unfair, because Life is unforgiving, but she stood tall, right?"

A few incomprehensible words slip from his lips. "Like Doc..." he murmurs.

 _I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry_

He looks down and it's like the hospital all over again.

Like hearing the nurse say _I'm sorry_ for the first time.

The fresh air that he had been inhaling a few moments ago had suddenly disappears and he tries to gasp for air but _he can't-_

Something squeezes his hand and he vaguely hears someone - Sally - tell him to inhale - _one two three four -_ exhale - _five six seven eight-_

A squeeze on his hand brings him back and he doesn't look up. He just had a breakdown and... he feels so weak. He doesn't want to be seen in a vulnerable state.

"Stickers?"

He blocks her out.

 _Like how Doc first blocked you out when you first came here?_

"Stickers. Look at me."

He slowly raises his head as Sally takes his hand. "Like Doc," she agrees solemnly. "But don't you get it? Doc's still there, standing as tall and as proud as this view."

"How can you say that?"

"Because, Stickers, he's living right here." Sally pats his chest, a spot where his heart should have been. "He's been in there and in our memories since he died."

He contemplates her words as she stands up, brushes imaginary dust off herself as she looks down at her watch. "I have to go, manage the Cozy Cone."

He weighs the choices as she strolls by and he pecks her on the cheek. "Thanks," he faintly hears himself among the echoes of Sally's words in his ears. "For everything."

She gives him a quick peck on the lips as she walks away, waving.

He turns back to his drink to find it's empty but his mind full, flooding with memories. Racing with Doc. Hiking with Doc. On races with Doc. Checkups with Doc. Tours with Doc. Talking with Doc.

Maybe it's true. Maybe Doc hadn't left. Physically, he had left but he had left his presence behind. Maybe every sign of Doc was in every nook and cranny of the town. Maybe he never left him behind. Maybe he was still alive. Maybe he was still up, tall and proud.

A lot of assumptions would have been hard to believe _but._

He makes a silent promise that day.

As long as Radiator Springs, his true home, and the valley stands tall and proud, he'll always find a light in the darkness.

And as long he finds hope, he'll never leave with sadness and grief in a hollow space, but with a heart filled with happiness and hope.

 _(And that is one promise that he'll never forget.)_

* * *

 **SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO how did i do? i hope it wasn't too shabby for a rushjob. i was actually amazed i pumped out a three-thousand word one-shot in a span of three hours (yep, all made in school because i was bored) and now YESSS I'M WORKING ON THE TWO CHAPTERS I PROMISED I'M WORKING MYSELF TO THE BONE SO PLEASE WAIT A LITTLE LONGERRRRR**

 **alright, november 28 isn't just about my relatives death. it may as well involve my broken heart on this day.**

 **review, favorite and follow, boys and girls! i hope you liked this (throwback wednesday yoooo) and i especially loved the sappy scenes where he cries... yeah, i think i also cried through rereading it like... three times?**

 **-Louise**


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